


Gift Wrapped

by YanderexBabydoll



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, Stalking, Unreliable Narrator, Yandere, implied drugging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:10:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26460115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YanderexBabydoll/pseuds/YanderexBabydoll
Summary: Bokuto has the perfect gift in mind to thank Kuroo for helping him pass his exams
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader
Comments: 19
Kudos: 441





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering why this looks familiar, it's because it is! Originally this was posted to my ficlets dump, but because I'm going to be posting part 3 in a few days I figured it actually deserved its own story thing - sorry for getting anyone's hopes up for new content (but hopefully part 3 will make up for it??)

“Fifty six!”

Bokuto’s hand slams down a stack of papers onto the desk and sure enough, written in big loopy red handwriting, circled and underlined at the top of the first page of the exam paper is his score - fifty six out of a hundred. Barely a pass.

“I freakin’ killed it!”

Kuroo can barely suppress his sardonic grin as he looks up at his friend, “Well look at you! Amazing what a little bit of study can do, huh? You’re a shining beacon of hope for idiots everywhere.”

Normally that would get a little rise out of the Ace, but Bokuto’s beaming grin doesn’t waver, and he’s kind of rocking back and forth on his heels like a little kid about to be set loose in a candy store. “You know I can’t study for shit. You really saved my ass on this one, Kuroo!”

Kuroo knows his friend too well to buy into the flattery, much less the innocent look that’s plastered across his face. A single eyebrow cocks, “You’re acting… weird. Why?” he asks suspiciously.

Bo’s grin widens and Kuroo’s stomach sinks. Whatever this is, he knows it can’t be good. Suddenly he wishes that Akaashi were here. Between the two of them, he’s always been better at managing Bokuto’s less than well thought out impulses. Unfortunately for him, the ex-setter was out of town for the weekend, meaning that whatever hell Bokuto was no doubt about to unleash would be solely his problem.

“Don’t be a dick! I am _trying_ to be nice here, I even got you a present to say thanks for tutoring me!” Bokuto grumbles.

Now _that_ makes him pause. “A… present?” Somehow it doesn’t ease the weird feeling in his gut. It’s not that he thinks Bokuto’s incapable of giving a gift out of the kindness of his heart, or that it would necessarily be a bad one, but the shit eating smile on his face that has yet to shift isn’t filling him with boundless confidence. It’s also apparent that aside from his test paper, his friend is empty handed. “Why do I get the feeling that I’m not gonna like this gift very much?”

Something in Bokuto’s eyes glints. “Oh trust me, dude. You’re gonna l _ove_ it!”

He doubts it, but keeps his mouth shut as Bokuto grabs his arm and pulls him (or tries to, at least) to his feet.

Kuroo’s frown only deepens when he’s led down the hallway, passing his own bedroom and stopping in front of Bokuto’s. “Why are we-”

“Just shut up and close your eyes.”

Kuroo takes a deep breath, “Bo-”

“Dude, just- just trust me okay! Shut your eyes and don’t open ‘em until I say so,” he orders.

Kuroo eyes his friend warily, but after a moment he complies, praying to god that he’s not gonna regret this. He’s not exactly the cleanest guy himself, but he’s avoided going into Bo’s room at all costs - it’s kind of a health hazard. 

But he trusts Bokuto.

_Mostly._

He hears the handle turn and the squeak of the hinges as the door swings open, and he tries not to snort as Bokuto grabs him by the arm and leads him inside. 

“… Alriiiight, open!”

Kuroo does as he’s told. He blinks in surprise, Bokuto’s room is exactly as he remembers it. Clothes, in varying states of cleanliness, littered across the floor. Dirty plates and empty cups spread out across almost every available surface, A few textbooks with various paragraphs highlighted lying open on his desk next to his laptop (browser window open at the pornhub homepage), but Kuroo can’t focus on any of that, because he’s staring at Bokuto’s bed.

Rather, the figure lying _on top_ of Bokuto’s bed.

His breath catches in his throat, heart pounding almost painfully in his chest. It’s like the world’s stood still. He risks a glance out of the corner of his eye at Bokuto, but his friend’s just grinning wildly at him, as if he knows that-

As if he knows that this is the only thing Kuroo Tetsuro has _ever_ wanted.

He can’t bring himself to speak, to ask how _Bokuto_ of all people knows his dirty little secret when he’s tried so hard to keep it to himself… but, in that moment he doesn’t even care.

Because you’re lying there in front of him, in a pretty sundress, hair flowing free and spilling across the pillows, your chest rising and falling gently in your sleep. God, you just look so beautiful and so very, very defenceless.

He starts walking towards the bed before his brain even catches up with him. There are a thousand questions running through his mind as he carefully settles himself down on the mattress beside you - least of which is how the hell Bokuto even managed to get you here, but before he can ask you let out a soft sigh that sounds almost like a moan and his thoughts disappear entirely. He reaches for you, his hand trembling, and ever so gently, as if he’s afraid you’ll fade away before him, and tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear.

He shudders out a gasp. You’re real.

You’re really here. 

With him.

How many months had he been watching you in the classes you share together, following you around campus like a lost puppy dog? How many times had he thought about bringing you home, making a move to finally claim you as _his_?

This… this is his gift? He raises his eyes to look at Bokuto once more, only to find him practically vibrating with excitement. “Did I do good? Did I do good, huh?? Tell me I did good!” he says with a booming laugh, clapping Kuroo on the back.

And Kuroo can’t help but chuckle. Really, he should be more than a little alarmed that one of his best friends is more than comfortable essentially kidnapping a girl just to make him happy, but he’s no saint either. So he grins and nods his head. “Yeah, you did good, man.”

“Ahh, it was nothing!” he replies with a dismissive wave.

He almost rolls his eyes at that, but a sudden thought makes him pause. “Why is she here though, in your bedroom?”

Bokuto snorts, “Well I could hardly sneak her into _your_ room this morning, now could I?”

Eh, he can’t argue with that. 

His attention moves back to you, deep in whatever drugged slumber Bokuto managed to induce. It’s not the first time he’s seen you sleeping of course, but it’s the first time he’s ever been close enough to _touch_ you.

“Bo?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Find somewhere else to crash tonight.”

Rather than being offended, he just laughs again, “What? Don’t think you’ll be able to keep it to your room?”

Kuroo’s lips curl into a smirk as he brushes the back of his knuckles against your cheek, but he doesn’t reply. Doesn’t really need to - they’ve always been on the same kind of wavelength with stuff like this. 

Bokuto just shrugs and shoots a wink, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

And then he’s gone, and it’s just the two of you. Slowly, gently, he eases you up off the bed and into his arms. Your head lolls back against his shoulder and he fights off a groan. Your skin is so soft and you feel so good in his arms. He can smell the subtle perfume of your hair and he falls in love with you all over again. He wonders, not for the first time, if you’ll taste just as sweet.

You’re perfect, but he’s known that for a long, long time. 

He can’t help but smile as he carries you into his room and lays you down onto his bed. So many possibilities, he can’t help but be a _little_ excited.

God knows he’s wrapped his hand around his cock and jerked off to countless fantasies about what he’d do when he finally had you, but in those fantasies you were always awake, if not an active, _eager_ participant.

He wants you aware the first time he fucks you, the first time he makes you cum for him. He wants to hear all your pretty sounds, feel your body tighten and writhe beneath his touch. He wants to stare at your face as you come undone for him.

It’s fine though, he thinks as he lies down on the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms. He doesn’t mind waiting, not when the two of you have the rest of your lives together to play each and every one of them out.

But surely a stolen kiss won’t hurt in the meantime, right?


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo's waited such a long time for this, you can't blame a man for indulging.

Kuroo promised himself he’d wait, but fuck, baby, patience has never been his strong suit.

Your skin is impossibly soft and smooth under his fingertips as he eases off your dress. It’s pretty, delicate, and though there’s a deep, primal part of him that urges him to rip it off of you like a kid with Christmas wrapping paper, he’s careful with it… careful with _you_. 

He can’t help but indulge a little though. You’re just so responsive, even in the grips of whatever drugs still linger in your system, shivering when the rough pads of his fingers trail up your thighs. It’s nothing compared to the way you moan when he takes off that pretty bra of yours and mouths at your tits, flicking his tongue across the sensitive bud and biting down _just a little_. 

He has all the time in the world, you’re not going anywhere - he knows that, he’ll make damn sure of it, but he wants to taste all of you so _fucking_ badly, and he’s waited so long already.

You can’t blame a guy for being eager, right?

Especially when he’s got you, all spread out for him like a damn feast. He’s got enough will power left to wait until you start to stir before he slides your thighs apart and crawls between them. He can’t help but tease you, kissing a soft trail up your legs, pausing every so often to nip and suck at the sensitive skin. Partially because it makes your breath catch and you make such pretty sounds when he does, but mostly because he likes the thought of marking you up. Your thighs, your tits, your neck - now that he finally has you, he wants the whole damn world to take one look at you and know that you belong to _him_.

His girl.

He grins wickedly at the thought as he finally reaches your cunt. A swipe of his fingers along your slit, a brush against your clit and you shiver again, but that’s not what catches his attention. His fingers come away glistening - you’re wet for him already. 

God, you just keep getting better and better, don’tcha?

His breath comes out in a shudder as he lowers his face between your spread legs, golden eyes watching your face as you slowly come to. 

He’s waited long enough.

“Itadakimasu,” he purrs devilishly, and dives right in.

 _Fuck_ , the taste of you - it’s better than anything Kuroo could have imagined. Between your legs, baby, that’s heaven. 

As the flat of his tongue drags along your pussy, flicking at your clit he gets the distinct pleasure of watching as your lips part in a soft whine and your eyes slowly flutter open. It must have been one hell of a drug that Bo slipped you, because even as your eyebrows draw together in such beautiful confusion it takes a moment for you to look down and piece it all together. The fear that swims in your wide doe eyes as they meet his a heartbeat later isn't nearly as satisfying - it makes his stomach twist, his skin crawl, the very thought of you being afraid of him.

But it’s okay that you’re scared, he reminds himself. This is all new for you. He’d be surprised (pleasantly, of course) if you just took this all in stride, but he knows you better than that, better than you know yourself. You’re a shy, skittish little thing, a big change like this is bound to make you nervous. Hell, you’ve spent an entire semester sitting three seats away from him and you’ve only ever spoken a few polite words to him in passing.

You don’t know that he’d never lay a finger on you, that he’d rather cut off his own arm than let anything bad ever happen to you. You have no clue how many nights he’s drifted off to the thought of having you tucked up in his arms, safe and loved and protected from the world that just wants to ruin you.

Since the moment he fell head over heels in love with you, Kuroo’s only goal has been to make sure you’re happy and safe.

You don’t know that, but it’s okay - he’s gonna show you.

Nobody’s gonna take better care of you than he can. Nobody’s gonna make you cum like he can either.

His hands, big and rough, brace at your hips, holding you in place as you try to jerk away from him. He’d debated earlier about whether or not to tie you up - he’s never been one for bondage, but as your arms tug fruitlessly at the silk tie from his high school days that binds your wrists to his headboard, he’s glad that he did. 

And maybe, just maybe, there’s something kinda hot about seeing you entirely at his mercy.

Just temporarily, of course. He’d meant what he’d said to Bokuto - he’s going to take you in every room, on every surface in the apartment, fuck you until you’re a beautiful, shaking, whimpering mess for him, but he needs to ease you into that. 

There’s a look of heartbroken betrayal in your eyes that cuts him to the quick, but he chooses to focus instead on the cute whine that follows when his nose brushes against your clit. “K-Kuroo?” you gasp, your bottom lip catching between your teeth as his tongue delves into your syrupy cunt. 

The sound of his name on your lips sends something warm fluttering inside of him. He wants to hear you say it again, wants to hear you scream it as you cum.

He doesn’t answer - his mouth otherwise occupied - but he smiles as he laves at your spongy walls and when he chuckles you tighten around him and he figures that it must feel good. His hand squeezes a little at your hip, fingers rubbing small, soothing circles against your skin. _Settle down, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you._

He’ll never grow tired of hearing you talk, but when you start to beg and plead it’s not the words that he listens to, but the dulcet tones of your voice and the way that it shudders and wavers when he finds that little bundle of nerves inside of you that has your hips jerking against him.

God you taste so fucking good.

The slick, lewd sounds of him fucking you with his tongue, hungrily lapping up your juices fill the room, and he wonders absentmindedly whether he should have put some music on to set the mood-

Another choked moan interrupts your tearful pleading and he’s glad that he didn’t. He’s gonna make you sing for him, a symphony of pleasure that only he’ll get to hear. He should have found the balls to do this months ago - this is his gift, but he knows he’ll forever be in Bokuto’s debt for this. 

Yet he can’t find it within him to regret that, not when you’re finally here with him, laid out like a sacred offering to the gods - one he fully intends on indulging in himself.

This - _you_ \- are everything he’s ever wanted.

He can feel your gummy walls quivering around his tongue as you eats you out, but it’s the way your body moves that has him entranced - your tits rising and falling as your breath starts to come in pants, the way you bite your bottom lip to try and stifle a cry, the subtle roll and jerk of your hips as you unwittingly beg for more. He has all the time in the world to find the spots that make you see stars but he figures he’s doing a pretty decent job of it when you whimper and your thighs tighten around his head.

You’re close. 

He pulls away, grinning up at you as he licks another strip up your glistening slit, and he can’t deny the way it makes his pride sing when whine so petulantly at the loss of his touch - but it’s only for a second.

His fingers replace his tongue inside of you. Three of them, crooked and rubbing at your g-spot as his mouth descends on your clit.

The sound you make when he starts to suck sends a rush of blood straight to his cock. You’re flushed and breathless, hair mussed and spilling across his pillow, a faint sheen of sweat on your forehead and your back is arching up from his bed, giving him a lovely view of your _perfect_ breasts. 

He’d say that you look like heaven, except he’s fairly sure that angels don’t look that depraved.

“P-please-!” you cry out, and the sound is music to his ears.

He teases at your clit, zig-zagging the tip of his tongue across the sensitive nub as his fingers stuff you full and you _scream_.

You look so beautiful as you fall apart beneath his touch. He’s never been the sentimental sort, but as you cum around his fingers with your head thrown back and lips parted in a soundless cry, he wants to immortalise it, he wants the image burned into the back of his eyelids so he can see it every time he closes his eyes.

He loves you.

He’s known that for months, but in that moment it hits him like a freight train, knocking the breath out of his lungs. He loves you more than he’s ever loved anything, ever will love anything. You’re perfect and beautiful and now that he has you he’s never going to let you go. 

You’re his.

His.

_His._


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo just wants to spoil you with a little breakfast in bed.

It’s not often that Kuroo cooks. He _can_ cook, pretty well actually - growing up, his grandmother had made sure that he at least knew the basics - it’s just that most of the time, he really can’t be fucked. 

Takeout’s easier. Less stress. Less cleaning. Failing that, there’s always two minute ramen. It’s not like Akaashi or Bo ever complained. 

It’s not like their own cooking habits were any better. 

But today - today he’s glad that he knows his way around a kitchen. It’s not a gourmet meal, not by any stretch of imagination, but he knows that simple is often better. More importantly, he knows that it tastes good and you’ll like it, and really, that’s all he cares about. Kuroo can’t help but smile, hum a little as he moves to grab two plates from the cupboard and set them on the kitchen counter. 

Last night had been… _intense_ for lack of a better word, but there was just something about waking up with you tucked up against his side that made everything feel _right_. He’s never been much of a romantic, but having you fast asleep in his arms, so soft, so vulnerable, your delicate skin littered with his ardent devotion, it filled him with a kind of warm contentment, like coming home after a long, long time away.

You fit against him so perfectly. 

It was tempting, baby, so _fucking_ tempting to waste the morning lying in bed with you. To bury his face back into the crook of your neck, shuffle closer, drown himself in the scent of you and let the hours slip away until your pretty eyes fluttered open. 

And maybe if he was a little more selfish, he might have. But Kuroo was raised with better manners than that. It might have been that most traditional of first dates, but he’s nothing if not a gentleman. He knows he wore you out yesterday, fucked you until you were a beautiful, babbling mess. After being such a good girl for him, you deserve to be spoiled - might as well start with breakfast in bed and work his way up from there.

And if eating his lovingly prepared food has the added effect of making you fall just a little bit more in love with him, well who’s he to complain?

Smirking to himself, he finishes plating, stacking both dishes onto a tray along with a steaming mug of coffee for you to carry back into the bedroom. 

Except when he cracks the door open with a quiet, “Babe?” called out, you’re not lying curled up in his rumpled sheets where he left you. 

As hazel eyes frantically scour the empty room, his heart skips a beat, blood running cold. 

You’re not where you’re supposed to be.

His attention snaps to the window. Shut, just as he’d left it. Their apartment’s on the fourth floor anyway, it’s not like you could slip out that way, not without hurting yourself. His stomach lurches at the very thought. He didn’t hear the bedroom door open, but the front door’s locked up tight from the inside. Deadbolted. There’s no _possible_ chance that you-

And then he hears it, the soft spray of a shower running down the hall and Kuroo almost laughs as relief washes over him like a wave, easing the sudden tension in his muscles. Of course you wouldn't go anywhere. 

You wouldn’t leave him hanging high and dry, not after you said those precious words to him last night, your cheeks flushed, eyes wide and glistening, “ _I l-love you, too_.”

But when had you slipped out? He hadn’t even heard you get up, but to get to the bathroom you would have had to have walked right past him. 

_Sneaky little thing._

Momentary heart attack aside, Kuroo glances down at the breakfast he’d so painstakingly prepared for the both of you. He was planning on surprising you in bed with it and letting the morning play out from there, but with you in the shower clearly that’s not going to happen. 

A smirk tugs at his lips as he sets the tray down on the empty bed and tugs off the old tee he’d thrown on to cook.

Breakfast can wait, Kuroo has other ideas of how to make your morning. 

You let out an adorable squeak when he opens the bathroom door, backing up into the corner of the shower and trying in vain to cover your chest and privates from view as he waltzes in.

“D-don’t come in!” 

He grins, bending over to kick off his sweats, “Relax, kitten. It’s just me.”

Yet you make no move to uncover yourself, still curled up against the cold tile wall, watching him with wide, cautious eyes. It’s kinda cute actually, the way you look at him like he’s about to eat you right up. 

You’re not wrong, per se, but it’s nothing to be scared of. He’ll take _excellent_ care of you. 

“Thought we might as well save some water,” he says with a cheesy smirk, pulling the glass shower door open so he can step inside. “Shower together. What do you think, kitten?”

You swallow, nibbling on your bottom lip as he closes the distance between you, stepping under the steamy spray of water. “Please,” you whisper, but Kuroo pays it no mind.

“Let me see,” his voice is low, rougher than he expected and you don’t fight him when his hands wrap around your wrists to pull them away. Such a good girl for him. A sharp breath hisses between his teeth, his heart thumping unsteadily in his chest at the sight of you, all naked, wet and tempting, rivulets of water cascading down the soft curves of your body.

You’re beautiful.

Every fucking inch of you.

Maroon and burgundy lovebites are scattered across your skin like blooming flowers, from your neck to your tits to your soft, supple thighs, and he doesn't miss the faint, finger shaped bruises that mar your hips from where he held you too tightly the night before. Perhaps he was slightly too overzealous - he knows he should feel a little guilty, but as he stares at you with simmering, hooded eyes, there’s only one thought running through his head.

He needs you.

You shudder when he reaches for you, tugging you back under the spray, into his arms. He should be gentle and sweet, ease you into it after the marathon sex last night, but the moment you fall against him, your wet, slick breasts and pebbled nipples pressing up against his chest, all rational thought flies right out the window. 

“Kur-”

He silences you with a kiss, his tongue sweeping past your lips to taste you once more. He couldn’t stop this even if he wanted to. This - you - are perfect.

“I love you,” he pants, _moans_ , as he guides your leg up over his hip, pushing you back up against the shower wall. “Love you so much, Y/N.”

You sob as his cock breaches your walls, clinging to him, burying your face in his shoulder. Even as he holds you closer, kissing at your neck while you whine and whimper, a twinge of guilt flickers through him. You’re probably still sore from yesterday. It’s hard to feel too bad though, when your warm, tight cunt squeezes and flutters around his aching cock, sucking him deeper even as he tries to draw his hips back.

Kuroo’s never been the religious type, but if there is a heaven, he’s pretty damn sure it exists between your thighs.

***

“Kuroo…” your voice is soft, hesitant, little more than a whisper over the quiet hum of the tv playing in the background - if you weren’t perched on his lap, he might not have heard you at all. 

He huffs out a laugh, “Don’t you think that’s a little formal, babe?” he teases, relishing the way you duck your head, trying to hide your pretty face from view by burying it in his chest. 

So easily flustered. You were riding his his cock like a fucking dream last night, but now you’re getting all shy over calling him by his first name? Kitten, you really are too fucking adorable. 

Okay, maybe he might enjoy teasing you just a _little_ too much, but can you blame him?

“T-tetsurou…”

Kuroo grins indulgently. “Mhm?”

Your fingers twist in your lap, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you nibble on it. Kuroo doesn’t push you, doesn’t prod as you fidget and shift, you’ll speak when you’re ready. He doesn't mind waiting, not when he gets to hold you close like this.

“W-when can I, um… when can I go home?”

His lips trail across your bare shoulder and he hums noncommittally. You shiver when his teeth nip at your delicate skin, squirming so delightfully that he’s tempted to think you’re deliberately trying to rile him up. Of course, he knows better than that - doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy it when his tongue finds that sweet spot on your neck, just below your jaw, and you writhe and gasp so prettily, unintentionally grinding your ass against the swell of his cock. 

“Tomorrow,” he pants, his voice just a little thicker, rougher than usual. “We can swing by before class to pick some clothes and stuff up to bring back here.”

You stiffen in his lap, but whatever reply you’re trying to get out is swallowed by a shuddering squeak when his fingers dip below the waistband of the boxer shorts he’s lent you. “O-oh.”

There’s more that you want to say, he can see you struggling to find the words as his hand delves further into your underwear, rough fingertips teasing at your cunt. The little moan you try to stifle sends blood rushing straight to his cock and it twitches eagerly in his pants, and when you make the mistake of squirming again, the very last vestiges of his control snap. 

“C’mere kitten,” he growls, and before you can protest his arms are on your waist and he’s flipping you over onto your back, yanking down your shorts as he looms over you. “Fuck, I love you.” 

Kuroo’s hand’s already wrapped around his swollen length, stroking it, guiding the flushed, weeping cockhead along your slick cunt, and he has to bite back a grin when it nudges against your clit and you _jerk_.

You’re shivering beneath him, staring up at him with those wide, doe eyes that he loves so _fucking_ much and he wonders, not for the first time, whether it’ll ever be enough. He loves you. Needs you like he needs air to breathe. The feeling of you wrapped around him, the way that you come undone under his touch, it’s intoxicating and addictive and he’s never going to get sick of it. You’re a drug, a craving he knows he’ll never satisfy completely but he doesn’t give a shit, not as long as you’re here with him. You’re perfect and you’re his and he’s never going to let you go.

“I’m gonna fuck this pretty little pussy till you’re screaming my name, gonna fill you up with my cum. You want that, baby? Want daddy to stuff you full of his cum?”

Kuroo doesn’t give you a chance to answer, leaning down to capture your reddened lips in a searing kiss. He knows that you probably need a little more prep, but he’s so hard, so desperate for the feeling of your tight, wet heat clenching around him that he just can’t wait. He’ll make it up to you, he thinks as he lines himself up-

A rough pounding on the front door shatters the atmosphere entirely.

You tense, flinching as he freezes, hovering over you, his lips still locked around yours. His heart thunders in his chest and narrowed, hazel eyes flick towards the door, but he makes no move to go and answer it, just watches and waits, until-

“Hey lovebirds, open up, would you? I’m tireeed,” a familiar voice whines, and Kuroo has to fight back a growl. Rationally, he knows he can’t be too mad, not when Bokuto’s the reason you’re here at all, but it’s hard to quell the faint flicker of resentment burning through him entirely, considering what it is that he’s interrupting. 

Of course the owlish bastard would choose now to reappear. He loves him like a brother, really he does, but Bokuto has the worst fucking timing on the planet. 

Reluctantly, Kuroo draws back, pressing another kiss - gentle this time - on your lips before falling back to sit on his thighs. “Impatient asshole,” he groans, but the wink he shoots you softens the edge of his words. 

Yet you’re still tense, your hands curled into fists at your side, an odd, fearful expression on your face as you stare at the door. He frowns for a split second before realisation hits him like a ton of bricks. He never asked Bo how he got you to come home with him. Kuroo had assumed that there were some kind of drugs involved because of your sleepy state, roofies probably but-

“Hey, look at me.” Long fingers grab at your chin and tilt your head back to focus on him. He smiles softly, reassuringly (he hopes), “It’s just Bokuto. He’s not gonna hurt you, sweetheart.”

You don’t say anything in return, but he doesn’t miss how your eyes flit back towards the door. 

“Give us a damn minute,” he calls out when Bo knocks again, louder this time, sighing and running a hand through the thick, dark mess that is his hair. “C’mon. Let’s get you dressed, hm? We can finish _this_ ,” he reaches down to press a less than innocent kiss to your breast, smirking when your back arches just a little and a soft whine leaves your lips, “later.”

He has all the time in the world.


End file.
